he landed on the president in the middle of his presentation
a good fellow but his butt’s too flat
at the end of a Valentine the
bulbs blew up to grow good poems full of Novocaine
when I say blew up I’m not talking about the Crocker Galleria
I can’t imagine a poem feeling that good
my second reading was a line thru my forehead
you can fix that now in downtown San Francisco, he said
lunchtime’s one piece of chicken and one more piece of chicken
made way for eventide’s Grandma cookie (peanut butter)
no more smut for the soul but oops four more wrinkles
one Mississippi two Mississippi three Mississippi four
